


Research and Development

by Northumbrian



Series: Nineteen Years and Beyond [23]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2610512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northumbrian/pseuds/Northumbrian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Mirrorphone®, the latest advance in Wizarding communications. Now, of course, everyone seems to own one. The kids seem to be incapable of living without the device. How did it happen? Who was responsible for the design? To find out we must return to the year 2000.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mark One

**Mark One**

George Weasley found himself standing on a pebble beach. The Portkey which had brought him from his shop to this unfamiliar location was now no more than an empty crisp packet. He glanced around, but there were no litter bins nearby, so he pushed the packet into the pocket of his jacket. Satisfied that there was no one in sight, he removed his invisibility cloak and carefully folded it. Placing the cloak inside his briefcase, he snapped it shut and took in the sights and sounds of a new and unfamiliar place.

To George’s right was a calm and still inlet on which dozens of small boats bobbed; all were tethered to buoys. On the other side of the water, beyond a narrow beach, farmland crept up and away from the water to meet distant rolling green hills. To his immediate left was a stone wall. The slick sea moss on the weathered wall showed that, at high tide, the water would be waist high. George examined the wall carefully, and wondered whether Ron had bothered to check the tides before he’d set the Portkey. Above the wall, George could see roofs, so he turned and strolled up a concrete ramp. Moments later he was standing on a pleasant and surprisingly quiet road which followed the shoreline.

Crossing the road, George made his way towards a street of old terraced houses. The properties were all plaster rendered, and each was painted in a different pale pastel colour. As he approached the houses, George began to concentrate on his destination.

‘Ginny Weasley lives at five, West Terrace,’ he muttered to himself.

The terrace shimmered and shifted, and a beige painted property sidled away from its cream-coloured neighbour to reveal an additional, pale green, property which had somehow been hiding between them. The front door and the frames of the fanlight above it were painted a bright emerald green. A large brass number five affixed to the door confirmed that he was in the right place. George pulled open the black wrought iron gate and once again vanished from Muggle view. As he walked down the short path, the front door opened and Ginny stepped out to greet him.

‘Hello guinea-pig,’ said George, as he hugged his sister. ‘How are you settling into your new place? More importantly, when’s the housewarming party?’

‘You don’t suit the beard, George,’ Ginny told her brother firmly. ‘I’m settled, thanks, but there won’t be a housewarming party. I definitely won’t be inviting anyone here. I can’t, because I’m not the Secret Keeper. Besides, I’ve had enough parties for a while, they were affecting my form.’

‘So you’re serious about trying to get selected for the England Squad?’ George asked. ‘Well done for getting to their training camp, by the way.’

‘Thanks. I was almost guaranteed a place on at least the Under-21s squad until the “Hellions” incident,’ said Ginny. There was only the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice. ‘Now, all I can do is hope that I managed to impress the selectors during the camp. Wish me luck.’

‘Good luck,’ said George automatically.

‘You found the place okay?’ Ginny asked. ‘No problems with the Fidelius Charm?’

‘It seems to be working okay,’ George told her. ‘Yesterday, when Harry told me where to find you, he said that he hasn’t even told Mum and Dad where you live! I’ve no idea how you two managed to keep Mum away.’

‘We told her that we were still trying to get the Fidelius Charm working properly, which was partly true. Harry will tell them my new address on Sunday,’ said Ginny.

‘Ron said that the Harpies management were demanding to know your address, too,’ said George.

‘They were. I went to a management meeting about it yesterday, and Harry came with me. You know my contract contains a clause requiring me to live on Ynys Môn, the Isle of Anglesea; everyone who plays for the Harpies has to live here,’ Ginny told him.

George nodded.

‘Harry was very reasonable with the management team,’ Ginny continued. George watched his sister’s face light up as she recalled the meeting, and felt a pang of jealousy and annoyance. The second anniversary of The Battle was approaching. Fred had been dead less than two years, but everyone seemed to have forgotten him. Everyone was pairing off, and Bill was about to become a father.

‘Are you okay, George?’ Ginny asked.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ he countered, forcing his smile back onto his face.

‘You looked down for a moment,’ Ginny said. ‘Are you...’

‘Just tell me about Harry,’ George told her. His sister stared into his face, shrugged, and continued her tale.

‘Harry reminded them that the apartment _they_ found for me when I started at the club was no longer secure. He told the directors that, as I’d been drugged and then burgled at the last place, he wasn’t prepared to tell anyone my new address. As a compromise he said that he would personally guarantee that I had a house on Ynys Môn. The Managing Director wasn’t happy; she threatened to take Harry to court.’

‘Blimey!’ said George, ‘What did Harry do?’

Ginny’s face broadened into a smile. ‘He reminded her that the last time he’d been threatened with legal action was by a solicitor called Tavistock. At which point Tavistock’s replacement, Nicola Macallan, suggested that the club didn’t actually need to know the address, provided that they could be certain that I wasn’t breaking my contract. I offered to take Veritaserum, to confirm that my house was on the island, and that was good enough for Nicola.’

George laughed. ‘Good to see the Harpies have got a more sensible solicitor than that pompous prat Tavistock.’ He turned and gestured across the street to the open water beyond. ‘You’ve got a nice view of the sea.’

‘It’s not the sea, George,’ said Ginny as she stepped aside and motioned for him to enter. ‘It’s the Menai Strait. On a clear day you can see Bangor, if you want to look at Bangor.’

Ginny led her brother down the hall and into the living room, where a trapezoidal bay window gave a magnificent view over the Strait.

George looked around the room. It was light, bright, high-ceilinged and sparsely furnished. There was a glass-topped coffee table between the armchair and the sofa, and a wireless on a stand on the wall opposite the fireplace, and that was all.

‘Make yourself at home,’ she said, indicating the sofa and sinking down into the only armchair in the room.

‘Nice place,’ George said. ‘And a lot bigger than you need. Are you sure you can afford it?’

‘The Harpies have renewed my contract, and if I get a place on the England squad I’ll get even more,’ said Ginny. ‘And I’m thinking of taking in a lodger, one of the other Harpies players. Plus I’ve been approached about another sponsorship deal, this time for a training Quaffle.’

‘Lucky you! So, your rich boyfriend isn’t funding this place? Where is he, by the way?’ George asked, he tilted his head to one side and listened carefully, just in case Harry was hiding somewhere. ‘He said he’d bring me here, but when I flooed to Grimmauld Place this morning Kreacher told me that he was out, and that “Master Ronald” had created a Portkey for me.’

‘Harry offered to buy the place outright. I said no,’ Ginny told her brother. ‘He was supposed to be here today, but he’s working, following up a lead. He’s in the other Bangor, of all places. The Irish one, not the Welsh one,’ she explained. ‘He’s with Ron and Neville, they’re following up a reported sighting of Daphne Greengrass. They aren’t hopeful, but they’re checking it out anyway.’

‘All three of them?’ asked George mischievously. ‘A few weeks ago Harry told me he was trying to persuade Robards to allow Aurors to work in pairs. I can count, you know. I know that Harry, Ron and Neville don’t make a pair. Or doesn’t Ron count?’

‘Of course Ron counts’ Ginny said. ‘After the Harpies game last weekend, Harry and I talked about his proposals for reorganisation. I pointed out that he seems to work best when he has two henchmen, not just one.’

‘True,’ said George, chuckling. ‘At least, that certainly worked for him at school. But, these days, he seems to be happiest as one half of a couple.’

Ginny smiled happily. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘A compliment from lugless Georgie! Whatever next? What about you?’ she asked. ‘I hear that you’re single again. Who will you bring to The Burrow next Sunday? Assuming you’ll be there.’

‘Of course I’ll be there,’ George assured her. ‘A man has to have at least one decent meal every fortnight. I don’t think I want another girl, Ginny, not yet, anyway. I don’t care what you think; I’ve never been anything but single. I’ve been single since The Battle.’ George paused, and stared out of the window and into the distance. ‘I won’t be bringing anyone to The Burrow with me this weekend. You’ve obviously heard that Julie and I had a huge argument. I expect Ron told you. Julie was getting serious. I wasn’t.’ George shrugged his shoulders, and pulled himself away from maudlin thoughts. As he looked into his sister’s face, he realised that she was reassessing his mood. He knew what would come next, so he hastily forestalled her. He gave Ginny his “No, I don’t want to talk about Fred!” look, and placed his briefcase on the table.

Opening the briefcase, he pulled out a magenta cardboard box, placed it on the low table, and beamed proudly at his sister.

‘I’m not here to discuss my lack of a girlfriend, or anything else,’ he told her firmly. He tapped the box. ‘Time is money; I’m here on business! This is only the fifth one of these we’ve made. This is the Mirrorphone Mark One, the latest advance in Wizarding communications.’

‘I can read, George,’ Ginny snorted dismissively. ‘That’s exactly what it says on the box: “The latest advance in Wizarding communications”! You aren’t actually trying to sell me it, you know. I’m simply going to test it for you. Why choose me to be your guinea pig?’

‘I’d have used Ron, because he’s useless and he can break almost anything, but while you’ve been away at the England training camp, and Harry and Dad have been working on Sirius’ motorbike, Ron and Hermione have been helping me with the design the phone. Ron already has one of the original four mirrorphones, and he knows how it works. Even if he didn’t, he’s watched Hermione use her Muggle mobile phone. I thought about asking Harry, but he was brought up with Muggles and he knows about telephones. So I asked the only obvious alternative,’ said George. He grinned evilly. ‘But Percy wasn’t interested in helping, either. So in the end I had no other choice. I’ve been forced to scrape the bottom of the barrel of Weasleys, sister dearest.’

‘Obviously,’ he continued talking over Ginny’s name calling. ‘At the moment you’ll only be able to contact the four other users, that’s me, Ron, Hermione, and Fenella Gray. And that reminds me, Ginny.’ George looked serious for a second. ‘I’m glad you forced me to agree when Fenella volunteered to help us. She might look weird, but she’s an absolute wonder with imaging spells. Hermione thought we’d simply be able to use a Protean Charm, but we’d never have got the text messaging system to work without Fenella.’

‘George Weasley,’ Ginny scolded. She folded her arms and managed to sound frighteningly like their mother, worrying George. ‘You walk in here looking like a malnourished, one-eared orang-utan in a badly fitting suit, and you call Fenella weird-looking? I don’t know how you dare! I suppose we’ll simply have to put it down to your complete lack of brains and manners.’ Ginny stopped, and pondered his words.

‘Text messaging?’ She repeated the words as though they were a foreign language. ‘Text … messaging … that sounds like writing, what is it?’

‘It’s a method of creating a message for someone else to read on their Mirrorphone,’ said George proudly.

‘It _is_ writing! Why did you give it such a ridiculous name?’ Ginny asked scornfully. ‘Text messaging! There are only two ways to communicate, George, talking and writing. What have you decided to call the talking option? Noise messaging?’ She snorted dismissively.

‘Actually, little miss smart-arse, there are three. You forgot about sign language,’ said George, sticking up two fingers at his sister.

Ginny laughed, and returned the gesture.

‘According to Hermione, the Muggles call it “text messaging,” so we did, too,’ George explained. ‘I’d never thought about how silly it sounds.’

Ginny picked up the box and opened it. She was confronted by a thick booklet marked “IMPORTANT: Read me first! She set it aside and picked up the blue-painted wooden item. George was about to shout a warning, but she spoke before he could stop her.

‘What are the numbered buttons for, and why is the mirror so small?’ Ginny asked.

‘Damn,’ George groaned and put his head in his hands.

‘What’s the matter?’ Ginny asked.

‘You didn’t read the instructions before you picked it up,’ said George.

‘Of course I didn’t!’ said Ginny. She picked up the booklet she’d discarded and waved it at him. ‘Just look at it! It’s almost as big as this phone thing. I bet Hermione wrote it.’

‘She did,’ George admitted.

The realisation that he was going to have to do a major redesign hit him, and he sighed. Ginny, he knew, would take no prisoners. She immediately proved him right.

‘Well then, no one is going to read it,’ Ginny told him, brandishing the booklet like a weapon. She shook her head in disbelief. ‘Merlin, George! Hermione is my friend, but you know what she’s like. If this is anything like her school essays it will be at least twice as complicated, and three times longer, than it actually needs to be. Harry reckons that her Ministry reports are exactly the same. You might as well have it written in Japanese! What have I done wrong?’

‘Read,’ said George, indicating the leaflet.

She opened it, and read the first page. ‘Important: in order to activate the Mirrorphone you must first touch it and speak your name clearly.’ She put the phone down, and picked it up again. ‘Ginny Weasley,’ she said.

‘It’s too late, Ginny. The mirror is set to register the first words you say when you touch it. That becomes your call sign, and it gives you your telephone number. Can you remember what you said?’

‘I asked what the buttons were for, I think. But honestly, George, that’s ridiculous,’ Ginny told him. ‘Why didn’t you simply enchant the mirror to say, “please speak your name” when someone touches it? Have you ever read the instructions on anything?’

‘Not often,’ George admitted. He shook his head in despair. ‘Congratulations, Ginny, you’ve broken it before you’ve even managed to use it. I’ll be back next week with another one.’

‘What’s a telephone number?’ Ginny asked.

‘It’s the number you dial to contact someone you know,’ George explained. ‘You press the number buttons, and their telephone rings. There are letters underneath the numbers, to help.’

‘Dial?’ asked Ginny. ‘Why say dial? You’re pressing buttons, there’s no dial on this thing!’

‘Hermione says you dial a number,’ said George, floundering under his sister’s cross-examination. ‘I’ve no idea why.’

‘Why is the mirror so small?’ Ginny continued to press him. ‘It will be really difficult to see someone in it. And why do you need to press buttons to contact someone? Surely you could simply speak their name.’

‘You can’t see anything in the mirror, apart from when you get a text message. We need the mirror to make the magical connection, but we thought we’d keep the screen blank, because we’re trying to make it look and act like a Muggle mobile phone,’ George explained. ‘That’s why you press the buttons to contact people, too.’

Ginny’s look said, “you’re a fool, George” more forcefully and rapidly than any words could.

‘Hermione thought it would be a good idea,’ he told her hesitantly. He knew what her reaction would be.

‘Harry and I spend a lot of time in the Muggle world, and I’ve watched them use these things.’ Ginny waved the Mirrorphone. ‘It seems to me that you’ve copied one particular phone, and I bet it’s the one Hermione uses,’ said Ginny. ‘Muggle phones are all different shapes and sizes. I thought that you were trying to make a magic mirror which can connect to a lot of other mirrors, not to simply copy a piece of Muggle technography.’

George realised that he was squirming in his seat. Sometimes, his sister could make him more uncomfortable than even his mother could.

‘You have!’ Ginny shouted. ‘This is simply an exact copy of Hermione’s phone, isn’t it? I bet it can do everything her phone can do, and nothing more.’ she announced.

‘Ron said...’ George began. Ginny didn’t let him finish.

‘Ron said “Hermione is right!” didn’t he?’ Ginny mimicked Ron’s most anxious and pleading tone as she spoke the word’s she’d attributed to him, and George knew that it would be much more than a week before he returned.

‘Ron has been saying “Hermione is right” for more than two months now,’ Ginny continued. ‘He’s been crawling ever since he made up with her. At the moment, so far as anything to do with Hermione is concerned, he’s got less spine than a jellyfish and he’s more cravenly obsequious than a cornered Malfoy!’ Ginny threw up her hands in annoyance. ‘I know that he got her drunk, and she made a fool of herself at a Ministry Ball, but that was months ago. Now he’s simply being pathetic. It won’t be long before even Hermione gets fed up and dumps him again. This time it will be for being such a pathetic wimp!’

Ginny shook her head in despair. ‘You know what they’re like, George. Usually Ron and Hermione only agree with each other when they’ve decided which of them is right, and it isn’t always Hermione. If you don’t tell Ron he’s being pathetic, I will. What’s wrong with you? Do you only expect to sell the Mirrorphone to Muggle-borns and their moronic boyfriends? Bloody hell, you’ve called it a Mirrorphone, but you can’t even use it as a magic mirror!’

George’s face fell. ‘You’re right,’ he admitted. He held up his hands and admitted defeat in the face of Ginny’s diatribe. ‘We’ve had loads of rows about the design, but Fenella just left ran away and left us to it. It was two against one.’

Ginny sighed, and began to calm down. ‘It’s difficult to fight both Ron _and_ Hermione, I know that, George, and so does Harry.’

‘Yeah, but you’re right, Ginny. We don’t need to make it look like a Muggle phone,’ George admitted. ‘I’ll redesign it. My original idea was simply for a mirror which would connect to loads of other mirrors. The few magic mirrors I’ve seen are too big to fit into a pocket, and this prototype is too small to get a decent image. But if I get rid of the buttons and make it thinner...’ George stared out through the window and into infinity as he began to make the necessary changes in his mind. ‘I want to keep it small enough to fit in a pocket, like the mobile phones. But we could make it bigger. About this size?’ He raised his fist, and extended his forefinger up, and then moved his thumb out at right angles to it.

How big is that?’ asked Ginny. ‘About two-and-a-half by four-and-a-half inches? That should be okay, provided you make it thinner.’

George sighed. ‘When I said a week, I was wrong. Give me a month. Do you want to join the design team?’

Ginny shook her head. ‘I’m waiting to hear back from the England Under-21’s coach. There’s a chance I’ll make the team, George. If I do, I will be back in training next week. Do you want me to talk to Ron and Hermione when I see them on Wednesday? I’ll give them my feedback.’

‘Thanks, Ginny,’ said George. ‘That would be great. I’ve got a lot to do. See you at The Burrow on Sunday.’


	2. Mark Five

**Mark Five**

Hermione’s strident complaints, and Ron’s desperate excuses, echoed down the stairs. Ginny, like Harry, was ignoring them.

Fat drops of rain covered the large panes of the bay window like the tears of a thousand mourners. Harry stood in the window, peering out through the downpour. Ginny sat on the sofa, watching her boyfriend. His back was to her, and his right hand was on the crown of his head. His fingers were twisting and teasing their way through his already tousled hair. She was about to ask whether he thought their plans would have to change when he spoke, apparently anticipating her question.

‘It isn’t raining on the other side of the Strait, Ginny,’ he said. The noise from upstairs abated, and he took his hand from his hair. ‘The fine weather seems to be heading this way. I think the clouds will pass over soon. Hopefully we’ll be able to have a barbecue in your back garden after all.’

Before Ginny could reply, there was a popping noise outside the window. Harry’s head jerked to the left. He stared through the window, gave a brief wave, and turned back into the room.

‘It’s George,’ Harry said as the doorbell rang. ‘He’s still got the beard, at least some of it, despite what everyone told him on Sunday. Do you think he’s okay, Ginny? He doesn’t look well.’

‘He isn’t, not really. I told him on Sunday, he’s drinking too much and not eating enough,’ Ginny replied as she stood. ‘It seems to be worse than ever this year. He goes into a depression just before his birthday, and doesn’t come out of it until after the anniversary of The Battle. You should ask him to help you with the bike, Harry. He’d enjoy tinkering, and he needs the distraction; if he’s not kept constantly busy, he mopes.’

The doorbell rang again, this time with more urgency.

‘He’s getting wet,’ said Harry.

‘Not as wet as Ron and Hermione got,’ said Ginny, but she walked out into the hallway to let him in.

‘You took your time,’ George told her when she opened the door.

Ginny looked up into his face. ‘And you look ridiculous,’ she told him.

‘Everyone complained that my moustache was long and untidy,’ George protested. ‘So I shaved it off, and a bit of the beard, too.’

‘Not enough of it,’ said Ginny. ‘When Harry and I were in the USA last year—in Washington—we saw a statue of one of their Presidents. He had a beard like that; it’s called a chin curtain. But his wasn’t straggly and untidy and, although I only saw black and white pictures of him, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t ginger, either. We all _know_ you’re an idiot, George, so you don’t need to look like one.’

‘I didn’t come here to be insulted,’ George protested.

‘Where you go doesn’t matter. You’ve got the mangy remains of a ginger tomcat glued under your chin,’ Ginny said acidly. ‘If you seriously believe that you can turn up on my doorstep looking like that and _not_ get insulted you really don’t know me very well, do you?’

George laughed. ‘I don’t care what you think, I’m keeping it,’ he said stubbornly, as he stroked the straggling strands of his untidy beard.

‘I’ll let you in this time,’ Ginny said. ‘But I’m warning you, Lugless, the next time you come here, you will be leaving the beard outside.’ She led her brother into the living room.

‘Hi, George,’ said Harry.

‘Afternoon, Harry, is Ron here yet?’ he asked.

Ginny noticed the evil grin on her brother’s face. ‘You _did_ know didn’t you?’ she said.

‘Know what?’ asked George. ‘That the first time I visited you, Ron had set the Portkey for a location on the beach that was below the level of high tide? Of course I knew. I have eyes, and a brain. When I suggested today for the second test of the Mirrorphone I checked the tide tables, and I realised that the tide would be in. That’s why I Apparated directly to your front door.’

George opened his mouth and clasped his hands over it in a pantomime of shock. ‘Ron didn’t arrive in the sea did he?’

‘Side-along Apparition, he had Hermione with him,’ said Harry.

George roared with laughter.

Part of Ginny wanted to be annoyed with him, and she knew that a part of Harry did, too. But George was laughing. She exchanged a glance with her boyfriend. The memory of Ron and Hermione’s arrival—he damp and disgruntled, she drenched and displeased—made her smile. Harry caught her mood and, like her, he struggled not to laugh.

‘You evil git,’ said Ron as he walked into the room. George shrugged dismissively.

‘It’s not George’s fault,’ said Hermione, as she followed her boyfriend through the door. ‘You’re the one who Apparated us into the sea, Ron. Of all the stupid things you’ve ever done…’

‘That one doesn’t even make the top ten,’ Harry observed loudly, cutting across Hermione’s complaints before she could start on Ron again. Harry folded his arms, and gave his friend a wry smile. ‘Does it, Hermione? Admit it.’

To Ron’s obvious relief, Hermione laughed. ‘No, you’re right, it doesn’t,’ she admitted. ‘But that water was freezing, and there was quite an undertow. If Ron hadn’t grabbed me I’d have been swept off my feet.’

‘Surely it’s Ron’s job to sweep you off your feet,’ Ginny observed.

‘Surely it’s my job to support her, too,’ Ron retorted. Hermione smiled.

‘Nice try, Ron, but we know you’re useless,’ said George.

‘He’s not,’ Hermione protested.

‘At least I can shave myself properly,’ Ron told his brother. ‘Did you get shaved in the dark or something? I hate to tell you, George, but you missed quite a big bit under your chin.’

‘Don’t you start,’ said George. ‘At least I didn’t Apparate into the sea with my girlfriend!’

‘You can’t, because you don’t have a...’ began Ron angrily. Hermione tugged Ron’s sleeve, and he stopped mid-sentence.

Ginny immediately filled the silence, and tried to calm things down. ‘You said you’d have the Mark two ready in a month, George,’ Ginny reminded him. ‘That was ten weeks ago! Did you have a problem?’

‘I did have it ready in a month, sweet little Ginevra,’ George told her. ‘Didn’t I, little Ronniekins?’

‘Yeah,’ Ron agreed, ‘But we _did_ have a problem...’

‘The Mark two was a disaster,’ said George. ‘So Ron and I started again. The Mark three almost worked, but I didn’t like it. And then Ron didn’t like the Mark four. You are going to be the first person to test the Mark five. Apart from me and Ron, only Fenella and Terry have seen this version. Let’s see if you can break it.’

‘I’ll make us all a cuppa.’ Harry offered. ‘Try not to destroy the thing before I get back, Ginny.’

‘I baked some ginger biscuits yesterday, Harry,’ she told him. ‘They’re in the green biscuit barrel.’

‘Ginger? My favourite! Are they as good as Mum’s?’ George asked.

‘They’re better,’ said Harry as he walked out of the room.

‘So, Hermione isn’t the only one with a creep for a boyfriend,’ George called after him.

‘Oi,’ Ron protested.

Ginny simply stuck two fingers up at George. ‘No biscuits for you, Lugless,’ she told him.

George ignored her, and instead shouted after Harry. ‘Just wait until I tell Mum what you’ve said about her biscuits, Potter,’ he shouted down the hall.

‘I’ll tell Molly that I only said Ginny’s were nicer because I didn’t want to hurt my girlfriend’s feelings,’ Harry called. ‘Your mum will forgive me!’

Ginny laughed. ‘Good plan, Harry!’

George turned to his sister, beamed proudly, and hugged her. ‘Merlin! You’re _really_ turning him into a Weasley! Well done,’ he told her. When he finally released her, he put on a mock frown. ‘Ten weeks work, and you won’t even feed me homemade biscuits. That’s not fair, but you’ll change your mind when you see this beauty! Sit down, and be prepared to be amazed.’

Ginny gave a dismissive snort, but sat in the armchair. Hermione and Ron sat side by side on the sofa, and watched in silence as George pulled a small box from his pocket and handed it to her. The box was a black so dark that it seemed to be sucking in light. It was about six inches long, and three inches wide, and it was no more than half an inch deep. On the front, in mirror-like silver block lettering was the word: “MIRRORPHONE®”, beneath it, in a smaller, cursive script, were the words “a W.W.W.® product”.

‘Top marks for the box, George,’ said Ginny. ‘It’s understated and tasteful. So, obviously, you had nothing to do with it.’

‘I told you she’d realise, George,’ Ron said. ‘I designed the box. I thought we needed to make it look classy.’

‘Apart from the silver writing, it looks just like the box this necklace was in,’ said Hermione. She lifted the fine silver chain around her neck. ‘It was my Christmas present from Ron,’ she told George.

‘It’s not like you haven’t stolen good ideas,’ Ron protested, as his brother began to call him names. ‘In fact this entire thing is stolen. The original Mirrorphone was just a magical copy of Hermione’s mobile phone.’

‘Was!’ said George firmly. ‘This one isn’t, Ron, and you know it isn’t.’

‘You said you hadn’t changed it much,’ accused Hermione, glaring at her boyfriend. ‘What have you done?’

Ginny lifted the lid. Resting on the padded black satin lining the box was a mirror. The surround was solid-looking and well-polished walnut wood, and the corners were smoothly rounded. The entire thing was about two-and-a-half inches wide, four-and-a-half high and no more than one-third of an inch thick. The mirror was set within this solid block of wood. There was no instruction book, because there was no room for one in the box. Inside the lid were the words “Please follow the instructions on the Mirrorphone®.”

‘That’s nothing like a mobile phone. Where are the buttons?’ Hermione asked.

‘We did away with them completely when we started on the Mark three,’ Ron admitted. He hastily turned to speak to his sister. ‘Hermione hasn’t been involved in the design since the Mark one. It’s been me, George, and Fenella. Terry helped, too. Fenella dragged him in to sort out an Arithmancy problem, something to do with the calculator function, and the caller identification algae rhythm.’

‘Algorithm,’ George interjected.

‘We couldn’t get rid of him,’ Ron continued, heedless of George’s interruption. ‘I think he thought Fenella was spending too much time with George.’

‘He’s got no worries there,’ said George. ‘She’s not my type.’

‘I didn’t know you had a type,’ Ginny observed waspishly. ‘Other than _female_.’

‘I have my standards,’ George told her, but there was little conviction in his voice.

‘But it doesn’t look like a mobile phone,’ Hermione protested. ‘It’s too thin, and too long and too wide. It looks like a mirror.’

‘That’s because it _is_ a mirror, Hermione’ said Ginny. ‘I think it looks good, and because it’s so thin, it will probably fit in my pocket just as easily as the smaller, fatter Mark one version. And besides, you told me that ten years ago Muggle mobile phones were the size of a brick. Perhaps in ten years Muggle phones will look like this.’

As she lifted the mirror from the box, George said. ‘Welcome to your new Mirrorphone, are you the owner?’

Ginny looked up. Her brother’s lips weren’t moving; his voice seemed to be coming from the mirror itself.

‘It’s automatic,’ George explained. ‘It speaks to the first person to touch it.’

‘Why use your voice?’ Ginny asked.

‘Please answer the question!’ the phone said firmly. ‘Are you the owner of this new Mirrorphone? Answer yes, or no.’

‘It was either me, Ron, or Fenella, so I did it,’ said George. ‘Now answer the bloody question.’

‘Yes,’ said Ginny.

‘Please look into the mirror, and speak your name,’ the mirror told her.

Ginny lifted it, stared at her reflection, and said, ‘Ginny Weasley.’ There was a burst of light from the mirror and although Ginny blinked and moved, her reflection did not.

‘Welcome ... Ginny Weasley,’ the phone said. Although George’s voice was speaking most of the words, Ginny’s name was in her own voice. ‘Your Mirrorphone is now operational. You have no contacts, and cannot, therefore, use many of the Mirrorphone’s functions. Please touch the screen for options.’

Before Ginny’s forefinger had touched the glass, Hermione was on her feet, and babbling excitedly. ‘Verbal instructions, instant recording of ownership...’

She peered over Ginny’s shoulder, and was just in time to see the image of Ginny fade. As it vanished, writing appeared on the glass.

‘How to... Contacts, Games.’ Hermione read. ‘The writing is very clear. Did you use the Protean Charm, coupled with...’

‘Hermione!’ George bellowed. ‘This is a test! Ron knows pretty much all of the answers. I’m surprised that he’s managed to keep it secret from you. Either shut up and let Ginny try to figure it out, or go somewhere else and ask Ron.’

‘But...’

‘I’ll tell you later, Hermione, just keep quiet and watch, please,’ Ron begged.

With some effort, Hermione stopped hopping around in excitement, and fell silent.

Ginny put her finger on the words _How to..._ and the writing changed. Ginny read the options: _How to add another mirror to your contacts; How to write a message; How to make an image..._

‘It can make an image!’ squealed Hermione, still peering over Ginny’s shoulder. ‘That’s amazing, how...’

‘Please, Hermione,’ Ron said. He reached into his pocket. ‘I’ve got one for you, and one for Harry, too.’ He stood, placed one of the black boxes on the table, and handed the other one to his girlfriend. ‘We’ll go through into the kitchen. You can ask me all your questions while George watches to see whether the instructions are Ginny-proof.

As they left, George rolled his eyes. ‘Peace at last! It’s so much easier to work without little miss clever clogs asking questions and making suggestions every second,’ he muttered.

Ginny grinned, and touched the words _How to add another Mirrorphone to your contacts._

_First, find someone you want to talk to. Second, touch your Mirrophone to theirs. Third, follow the instructions._

‘You’ve got this far without a problem, Ginny,’ George told her. He pulled an identical Mirrorphone from his pocket. ‘The writing and imaging and games options are simply bells and whistles. The important thing is that we’ve figured out a way to make a mirror which effectively enchants itself. There is no limit to the number of contacts you can have.’ George paused, and shook his head. ‘That’s not quite true. Terry says that...’ He pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket, and read. ‘Because of the Arithmantic constraints created by codifying the connections, the number of connections is restricted to eleven cubed, which is…’ he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, ‘one thousand three hundred and thirty one...’

‘Over a thousand connections, that should be enough,’ Ginny began.

George shook his head and hissed her into silence.

‘The maximum is, therefore, the one thousand three hundred and thirty first prime number, or ten thousand, nine hundred and fifty seven connections,’ said George, waving the piece of paper. ‘I wrote it down, in case someone asked. Now, do you want to try this?’ George held up his Mirrorphone, and Ginny touched hers to his.

‘Contact between... the amazing George Weasley... and... Ginny Weasley,’ the phones announced simultaneously. George’s recorded identifier was a lot louder and less formal than Ginny’s. ‘Please place a finger on the Mirrorphone.’

Ginny did as instructed, and George followed suit. She was becoming used to the verbal instructions, and the sudden switches between her voice, and George’s.

‘Ginny Weasley...’ the Mirrorphone asked. ‘Do you wish to establish contact with... the amazing George Weasley?’

‘Yes,’ Ginny said.

The Mirrorphone then repeated the process with George.

‘Contact established... Ginny Weasley... please provide an identifying name for... the amazing George Weasley.’ the Mirrorphone said.

‘Lugless,’ said Ginny. George grinned.

When the process repeated itself George said, ‘Harpy.’

Ginny moved her Mirrorphone away from George’s.

‘Ginny Weasley... to contact... the amazing George Weasley... simply touch the mirror, and say... Lugless.’

While Ginny’s phone spoke, George’s was also repeating his version of the message.

‘That’s it,’ said George. ‘You can send written messages, too, but I’ll let you to figure that out for yourself. It wasn’t easy to put the instructions onto the phone, but it was easier than simplifying the original instruction book. Keep it, there’s one for Harry, too. See if you can figure out what else it can do. Try to break it, and let me know what you think. We’re not going to go into production until we’re sure it works.’

‘Tea and ginger biscuits,’ said Harry as he walked into the room carrying a tray. ‘I’ve left Ron and Hermione in the kitchen. For some reason she’s trying to explain what prime numbers are to Ron. Even though it’s patently obvious he doesn’t actually want to know.’

Ginny sat back down in her chair, touched the Mirrorphone, and said, ‘Lugless.’ Her voice echoed back to her from George’s Mirrorphone.

George touched his mirror and said, ‘Hello, Ginny.’ His face appeared in the glass, and he winked at her. ‘Much easier than pressing buttons and dialling numbers, isn’t it?’ he asked.

‘You can help yourself to biscuits,’ she told him via the phone.

‘Thanks.’

‘Very impressive,’ Ginny said. ‘But how do you break the connection?’

George didn’t answer, he simply dropped his Mirrorphone into his pocket. His image immediately vanished from Ginny’s mirror.

‘No skin contact, no connection?’ Ginny asked.

‘That’s right,’ George confirmed. ‘And it doesn’t matter how many times you speak my name. If I don’t touch the phone and speak, then you can’t contact me.’

‘Lugless,’ said Ginny, still holding the phone. ‘Lugless!’

George folded his arms, and the echo of her voice continued to come from his pocket.

‘Lugless!’ Ginny said again. George pulled the Mirrorphone from his pocket. ‘About time!’ Ginny said, but her voice didn’t echo from the phone. George dropped it back into his pocket.

‘Touch the phone _and speak_ ,’ George said. ‘If I don’t knowledge you, the only word the mirror sends is the identifying name.’

‘My lugless brother is a genius,’ said Ginny experimentally. Only the word lugless echoed back at her.

‘Very clever, but how can you stop it from talking?’ Harry asked, as he opened the box containing his own Mirrorphone. ‘If I’m on a mission, I don’t want someone shouting my name at the wrong time. It could be extremely dangerous.’

George frowned. ‘Damn! You can’t,’ he said. ‘That’s a good point, Harry. I can’t see a way to prevent Mum from having a Mirrorphone, and I don’t want her shouting her name from my pocket all day. I’ll have a word with Ron, we’ll figure out how to add a silencing charm to the Mark six.’

‘If you can silence it, it would be useful if you could find a way to silently let Harry know I’m calling,’ said Ginny thoughtfully. ‘Perhaps you could couple the silencing spell with a dancing jinx. If the Mirrorphone starts to dance in Harry’s pocket, then he will know someone is calling, but there won’t be any noise.

‘And I can easily show him who it is,’ said George, tugging at the straggling hairs beneath his chin. ‘I wondered whether to put the image of the caller on the mirror. I didn’t because when you pick up your Mirrorphone and answer, you can see the caller. But making the phone dance, and putting an image of the caller onto the mirror would be easy.’

He helped himself to a ginger biscuit, crunched it, and gave his sister a thoughtful look. ‘Don’t tell Mum,’ he said, waving the uneaten half of the biscuit. ‘But I think Harry’s right, these are better than hers.’

Hermione hurried into the living room. ‘This is a remarkable piece of magic,’ she said. ‘Very clever use of the Flesh Memory spell, and it’s so useful! Let’s link, Ginny.’ She held the mirror up. ‘Harry, you haven’t even opened your box yet! What have you been doing?’

‘Eating ginger biscuits,’ Harry told her.

‘Ginger biscuits! Where?’ asked Ron.

George tried to hide the barrel, but Ron was too fast.

* * *

‘Ginny.’ Harry’s voice was barely audible over the hubbub, but Ginny heard it.

‘Hi, Harry,’ she said, pulling her Mirrorphone from the pocket of her jeans, which were hanging on a peg in front of her. ‘Where are you?’

‘I’m stuck in a tiny little place called Baltimore,’ he told her. ‘It’s in the south west of Ireland. I’m sorry, Ginny, this looks serious, an entire family has been killed, and it looks like the Killing Curse. I won’t be able to get...’

‘It’s only a friendly game, a try out for the newly selected England players,’ Ginny reminded him, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. ‘And I’m in Poland. You’d never be able to get here before the game starts.’

‘Who’re you talking to?’ asked Barbara Boothroyd, stepping up to stand alongside Ginny.

Harry’s eyes opened wide, ‘I can see you!’ he said, turning his head away from his mirror.

‘Put your robes on, Babs,’ said Ginny, turning the mirror to one side, away from the bare-chested Beater. ‘You’re giving Harry an eyeful.’

‘There’s a naked Quidditch player over your other shoulder, too, Ginny,’ Harry said, blushing. ‘I’d better go. Bye.’ With that, he broke the connection.

‘You were talking to Harry Potter! Is that a magic mirror? Where did you get it?’ Barbara asked.

‘My brothers made it,’ said Ginny. ‘It’s still a test version. Unlike most mirrors, this one doesn’t simply have one paired partner. It will connect with a lot of other mirrors. George and Ron are looking for a couple of people to test the next version. Would you be interested?’

‘Yeah,’ said Barbara eagerly as she fastened her bra.

‘What about you, Maddie?’ Ginny asked the other female member of the team.

‘Okay,’ she said.

‘Great, watch this.’ She looked back into the mirror, and said, ‘Lugless.’

‘I’m listening to the wireless, Ginny,’ George said. ‘There are only three minutes before your match is due to start! Is something wrong?’

Ginny turned the mirror slightly. ‘How would you like to be able to say “as tested by the female members of the England Quidditch team on your advertisements?’ she asked.

‘Hello Maddie, and helloooo, lovely Babs,’ George shouted. ‘You’re the best looking Beater I’ve ever seen! Are you two ladies interested in getting a free Mirrorphone? Come and see me when you get back to the UK, and we can discuss terms. We can do it over dinner, if you like.’

Barbara Boothroyd peered into the mirror. ‘I wouldn’t be seen dead with anyone who has such a ridiculous beard,’ she said.

‘I can shave it off,’ George offered.

‘Got to go, George,’ Ginny said.

‘So, when we get the phone ready to market...’ George began.

‘If you want us to appear on any advertisements, we can discuss terms,’ Ginny told him. ‘Bye.’

She dropped the Mirrorphone into her pocket.


End file.
